


let's keep this between us

by bettyandrews (cherryliqueur)



Series: riverdale bingo: 2021 round [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: (but not actual sex), Cunnilingus, F/M, Hate Sex, Late Night Conversations, Outdoor Sex, Redemption, Riverdale - Season 2, Riverdale - Season 2 Episode 5: When a Stranger Calls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 23:40:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryliqueur/pseuds/bettyandrews
Summary: “Alright, out with it,” he says, nudging his foot against hers under the table.She blinks, staring at him for a long moment. Oh god, he’sserious. “You can’t really expect me to confide in you,” she breathes out.Chuck shrugs. “Confessing can be good for you.”
Relationships: Chuck Clayton/Betty Cooper
Series: riverdale bingo: 2021 round [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185197
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: Riverdale Bingo 2021





	let's keep this between us

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what to consider this, but I've had the urge to write Chuck for a little while now, especially on his "road to redemption" that we never got to fully see on the show, and I liked how this turned out! Honestly, it felt oddly perfect for Sort-Of Redeemed Chuck to be there for Betty in her time of need during this part of canon.
> 
> -
> 
> [Riverdale Bingo: 2021 Round](https://cherryliqueurkinks.tumblr.com/post/642623825228546048/%CB%8F%CB%8B-riverdale-bingo-2021-round-%CB%8E%CB%8A-aka-lets)  
> square fill: late night chats

Chuck Clayton is the last person Betty expects to see, and yet, that’s exactly who finds her sitting in a booth by herself the night of her fallout with Veronica and her breakup with Jughead. Chuck hadn’t been at Nick St. Clair’s party, and Archie had said no one but Jughead and the Serpents had been around when he’d relayed Betty’s message, but of course both stories have already gotten around in matter of hours. If Betty wasn’t so tired, she would have the sense to feel embarrassed about losing it in front of Chuck - but she can’t find it in herself to care when her vision begins to blur with tears. She’s frustrated and terrified, and _exhausted_ , and Chuck trails off halfway through his question when he notices the tears dotting her eyelashes as she blinks up at him tiredly.

“ _Shit_ ,” he murmurs, tilting his head to really look at her. “What the fuck has been going on with you, Cooper? You look like hell.”

Betty swallows tightly, turning to the window. “Go away, Chuck,” she exhales sharply, her voice sounding every bit as shitty as she feels. “I’m really, _really_ not in the mood for this, so if you’re hoping to get a rise out of me, you’re out of luck.”

“Come on, give me a little credit, Betts. Kicking you while you’re down isn’t nearly as fun,” Chuck comments, and Betty’s eyes snap back onto him as he slides into the other side of her booth - but there’s something in his expression that has her pausing. He doesn’t seem _concerned_ , exactly, but whatever glint of cocky amusement that’s usually in his eyes has dimmed just a little. “Alright, out with it,” he says, nudging his foot against hers under the table.

She blinks, staring at him for a long moment. Oh god, he’s _serious_. “You can’t really expect me to confide in you,” she breathes out.

Chuck shrugs. “Confessing can be good for you,” he replies simply.

Betty swallows, still staring, and he holds her gaze easily, glancing between her eyes as he waits her out. She isn’t sure why, exactly - maybe it’s her natural curiosity, or maybe she’s simply too tired to think better of it, or maybe it’s _both_ \- but she finds herself _looking_ at him, too. “Is that why you started going to church with your father? Because it makes you feel better?” she asks. If he’s surprised that she knows this, he doesn’t show it as he nods. “You know that isn’t all it takes to make up for everything.”

“I know, Coop, but thanks for belittling my road to recovery,” he replies, but his lips are pulling wider in a grin when she flinches. “Not that I expected anyone to take me seriously when I started going, least of all you, so save those guilty eyes for your best friend and your boyfriend when you’re explaining whatever the hell has been going on with you.”

She startles herself with her own laugh, the sound coming out sharp and hallow. Chuck arches an eyebrow at her.

“I just...” Betty shakes her head. “For _you_ to pick up on something that my best friend and boyfriend didn’t?” She glances down at her hands on the table as she picks at the edge of her jacket sleeve. “Not that it’s their fault,” she says, more to herself than to Chuck. “They’ve both got a lot going on. I shouldn’t be mad.”

“Fuck that,” Chuck says, and Betty’s eyes snap up onto his as he hitches his elbows up on the table, leaning in closer. “You keep telling yourself that and you’ll end up as angry as I was. They should know something is going on with you _because_ they’re your best friend and boyfriend, and you _should_ be pissed that they didn’t notice. _I_ noticed, and you hate me.”

Her breath hitches, her eyelashes fluttering. “You think I should be mad?”

“Aren’t you?” He’s closer now, barely a foot away from her face, and Betty feels her blood thrumming. She knows she’s not upset with him, just as she’s not even all that upset with Veronica or Jughead - not _truly,_ anyway - but her fingers twitch with the urge to slap Chuck just because she can feel her frustration beginning to stir. For once, ever since this whole game with the Black Hood started, Betty can focus more on how pissed off she is about the whole thing than how terrified and helpless it makes her feel. “You have _one_ bitch fit and your so-called best friend doesn’t think that it’s odd? That you’re just having a breakdown for no fucking reason?” Chuck asks, his voice low and a little bit gravelly. His words are clearly instigating, but his voice doesn’t sound the least bit annoyed. It sounds... _seductive_ , like he wants to coax a reaction out of her and he knows exactly how to do it. “Then you break up with your boyfriend through his best friend and he doesn’t even put up a fight? Because I know for damn sure that he hasn’t tried to get a hold of you.”

Betty curls her fingers, digging them into her palms, trying in vain to keep her breaths even. Jughead _hasn’t_ tried to contact her, and Betty doesn’t know if Chuck found this out or he’d just guessed, but either way, it hits her exactly as Chuck had intended. Betty should be relieved that Jughead is respecting her wishes and keeping his distance; it’s safer for him, but _he_ doesn’t know that that’s why she broke up with him, and Betty keeps expecting him to show up at her window and demand the truth. It’s ridiculous and she knows it, but it’s how she feels, and Chuck is tugging on all the right strings to tug all that frustration she’s been trying so hard to bury.

“Why...” She exhales sharply. “Why are you goading me?”

“Because you’re crying at Pop’s in the middle of the fucking night, Coop.” He flashes his teeth at her in a wide grin, something that should feel entirely out of place with their conversation, and yet, Betty isn’t surprised to see it. “I don’t know how to deal with tears, but I’m an expert at pent-up aggression, and you’ve got it in spades right now,” he adds, his eyes flickering down to her lips. Betty sucks in a sharp breath, and the little motion pulls his gaze down lower, to where she knows the curve of her breasts are being teased by the neckline of her silk top. “Plus, you hate me, so there’s no guilt to get in the way for wanting to punch me in the face.”

Betty licks her lips, watching Chuck’s eyes darken as he shamelessly continues to stare. “I don’t exactly want to punch you,” she admits.

“Good to know, but let’s not ruin all my hard work by giving you a chance to be rational and shit.” His smirk widens as he drags his gaze back up at hers, his eyes glinting. “Can’t have a good hate-fuck without the hate, now can we?”

* * *

Betty doesn’t know where Chuck intends to take her when he leads her out of Pop’s, since he isn’t naïve enough to assume that she’d go home with him, and he certainly isn’t naïve enough to try to go to _her_ place. But, as he opens his passenger door for her, that cocky smirk still perfectly in place even as he offers his hand to help her into his truck, Betty decides that she doesn’t care to find out. Instead, she grasps his jacket and yanks him close, probably with far too much force than necessary considering Chuck is laughing as she slants her lips against his, and _god,_ that only pisses her off even more.

“What’s the matter, Betts?” he murmurs, angling his head and nipping at her lower lip hard enough that she nearly tastes blood. “Afraid to be just another girl in my truck, just like Veronica was?”

Betty feels the heat in her stomach flare higher and hotter at his words, kissing him even harder despite the fact that he’s the one shoving her almost angrily up against the side of his truck. “Shut _up_ ,” she nearly growls, feeling the stitching of his jacket straining under her fingertips as she twists it tighter in her grasp. He slips a hand under her coat, hooks a hand under the bend of her knee and jerks her leg up to wrap around his hips.

“I’m sure _Ronnie_ would be more than willing to share, since she’s already sampled me first,” he says into their kiss, flicking his tongue against hers in a taunt, “just like she got to Andrews first.”

Betty bites down on his lip _hard_ before she can catch herself, earning another deep, rumbling laugh from his chest as Chuck draws back, and she doesn’t even realize that she’d broken skin until his tongue darts out over the small sliver.

 _Oh god_.

“Feisty,” he chuckles, sliding his hand along her leg to cup her ass under her skirt and tug her ever tighter against him. “I didn’t think you still cared about that little incident considering Jones practically worships the ground you walk on.”

“I _don’t_ ,” Betty snaps, moving to shove him off, but he grasps one of her hands with his and pins it to his truck as he ducks his head and sucks at the curve of her neck, finding her rapidly fluttering pulse just under her delicate, flushed skin. Betty moans, letting her head fall back against the window as his teeth grazes her neck, nipping, _sucking_ , and her free hand grasps onto his bicep for balance as she rocks her hips against his. “ _Chuck_.”

He slides his nose along her throat, nipping at the underside of her jaw. “I can assure you, _B_ ,” he says into her skin, his smirk curving wider, “I never touched _V_ like this. I never even kissed her like this.”

“Never?” she asks, even though she doesn’t know why she even cares. She _doesn’t_ , but she _does_ , and it only irritates her even more.

He hums in reply, sliding down her body, nipping at her collarbone, the curve of her breast peaking out over the neckline of her silk top, until he’s on his knees and shifting the leg that’d been hooked around his hip over his shoulder. Betty lets out a shaky breath, taking in the sight of Chuck Clayton kneeling on the ground in front of her, the curve of his smirk pressed against the inside of her thigh, only barely illuminated by the low glow of Pop’s neon lights. The front of the diner had been empty aside from her own car, but he’d still parked his truck in the side lot, out of view from the diner’s windows and almost entirely hidden from the road with how dark it is.

“Never done _this_ to a girl against the side of my truck, either,” he says, bunching her little black skirt up around her hips, and she knows very well that he could be lying to her, but still. She feels an odd flutter of satisfaction at his words, the ghosts of a triumph that she hasn’t felt in _days_ , and maybe that’s why she can’t quite help herself from the way she cries out when he ducks his head and sucks at her through the thin, damp cotton of her panties. The wanton sound echoes up into the air, making her flush hotter, and she only barely manages to press her hand over her mouth just before he’s tugging her panties aside and diving back in.

_O-oh._

_Oh_ , _god_.

He groans against her pussy, his nose brushing against her aching little bundle of nerves, and Betty’s cups the back of his head and tugs him in closer. But he ignores her desperation, ignores the fact that her thigh is practically quivering over his shoulder as he laps at her slowly and teasingly.

“You’re fucking _dripping_ onto my tongue, Coop,” he growls against her, gripping her hip and sucking at her harder, curling his tongue into her twitching entrance. She scratches at his shaved head, wanting to tug on something, needing to dig her fingers into something to anchor herself, and the fact that she _can’t_ has the pressure at the base of her spine tightening too quickly. “These are in my fucking way,” he mutters, and before Betty can even blink, he’s twisting his fingers into the waistband of her panties and yanking. The stitching snaps but doesn’t tear entirely on the first tug, making Betty’s breath hitch in her chest as if she’s afraid to distract Chuck as he tugs again, harder this time, ripping them off entirely.

Then he rubs two fingers against her entrance, laving his tongue over her clit as he presses his fingers in and then curls, and Betty presses her hand tighter against her mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle her cry as he licks and licks and _licks_.

He seems to know exactly when she’s about to come, too, because he presses his forearm across her stomach the second before her leg buckles, pinning her to his truck as her body curls over his from the force of her orgasm as it crashes over her. She bites down on her hand, nearly drawing blood as her vision almost whites out from the pleasure washing over her, and Chuck doesn’t relent, still licking at her clit and fucking his fingers into her until she all but collapses over him.

Betty whimpers as Chuck shrugs her leg off of his shoulder, nearly swaying forward as the last tremors of her orgasm ripple through her, but he hooks an arm around her waist to steady her as he stands. His lips and chin are glistening with her arousal, and it’s ridiculous how this manages to make her blush after what they’d just done, but it does, and it earns another smirk from Chuck as he darts his tongue out to lick some of her slickness off.

Then he ducks his head to kiss her, and the fact that she can taste on his tongue when he slips it against hers has Betty whimpering, hooking a hand over the back of his neck to kiss him harder and deeper. She can feel the hard bulge of his cock under his jeans as it presses against her stomach, making her stomach _flutter_ , the sensation so disorienting that it nearly makes Betty laugh. It’s such an utterly ridiculous and juvenile moment, kissing a boy her parents would disapprove of in a desperate attempt to forget her breakup with her boyfriend and her fight with her best friend, and it’s the most _normal_ Betty’s felt in what feels like forever.

Chuck eases his lips from hers, drawing back just enough to catch her gaze, and Betty has the strangest urge to touch him, so she cups his cheek and rubs the pad of her thumb against the corner of his smirk.

“You play a good villain,” she breathes out. She isn’t trying to insult him, not even a little, and Chuck’s eyes glint back at her in the moonlight as if he knows this. 

“Somebody’s gotta do it.”


End file.
